


A Change of Heart

by spiderlight



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Fix-It, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:02:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2678294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiderlight/pseuds/spiderlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra lets her down in the most gentle way possible, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.</p><p>(fix-it for That Conversation; mild spoilers)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Change of Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't realize that flirting with Cassandra as a female inquisitor would lead to a whole cutscene where she's gotta let you down. I swear I almost cried. WHY BIOWARE

Adaar waited until she was safe in her room to cry.

It was—she should have expected it, honestly. Cassandra had always responded well to her flirting—blushing, laughing, but not uncomfortably. At least, it had seemed so; apparently she'd been misreading the situation.

And of course she'd go and fall in love with a woman who couldn't love her back instead of one of the many women who'd hinted that they'd like to have her in their bed. Sera had warned her about Cassandra, after all, hadn't she? _“Even if she does like women, you know, like that, she's got it all hidden and repressed, yeah? You don't wanna mess with those ones.”_ She was _such_ an idiot.

She scrubbed roughly at her face and sat on the small couch made for humans, feeling suddenly very large and awkward and _stupid_. She picked up one of the decorative pillows and pressed it over her face, then screamed into it. _Softly_ screamed, just in case.

Varric was standing in front of her when she lowered the pillow. “Um,” she said. He was looking exceptionally sympathetic, which meant that either he was there to give her bad news, or he'd somehow heard about the awkward conversation with Cassandra.

“I heard about Cassandra,” he said. Well then.

“Oh?” replied Adaar, hoping her eyes were no longer puffy and red.

Varric sighed and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Finally, he said, “You wanna get drunk and play wicked grace?”

“I shouldn't let this distract me,” she said, more to herself than to Varric.

“Please,” said Varric. “As though we haven't used lesser excuses to get drunk and play wicked grace. You can have a night off.”

Adaar pictured the route to the tavern, and all the places she might encounter Cassandra on the way. “I was hoping to avoid Cassandra for a few days,” she admitted. “At least until I can push this all down and forget about it?”

Varric shook his head. “Far as I can tell, she's making herself scarce. I can clear out the tavern, bring only people we like, it'll be fun. Come on, _Lady Inquisitor_.” He grinned, bending in half and extending his arm in a mock bow.

“Oh, all right.”

“Take a minute to set your face to rights though,” he said wryly, “you're a bit of a mess.”

She threw the pillow at him.

 

* * *

 

 

“We could put frogs in her bed, or something,” Sera said conspiratorially over her beer. “Snakes? I saw a little one over by the stables earlier, I bet I could find it.”

“No, no pranks,” said Adaar. “I'm not angry at her!”

“And why not!” Sera exclaimed. “Come on, we both know she liked you flirting with her, right? So either she just liked havin' her ego stroked, or she's all repressed and whatever but didn't want to tell you to bugger off. Either way, she deserves a little prank!”

Adaar sighed and signaled for another beer as she finished off the last one. “She's still my friend. No frogs,” she said. “Or snakes.”

“Fine, fine,” Sera said, waving a hand. “Anyone for strip wicked grace?”

 

* * *

 

 

It took a few days, but Adaar managed to put her hurt and embarrassment behind her enough to look Cassandra in the eye when Cassandra came to her with business.

It was still terribly awkward.

They worked together well enough, but she didn't spend anymore afternoons in the courtyard pretending to read while really watching Cassandra read Varric's smutty books. They no longer ate breakfast together, and she began sparring with Bull and Blackwall instead, and now Cullen was the one who came to her with Inquisition issues more often than not.

And it wasn't even as though they were simply ignoring each other—she could feel Cassandra's eyes on her _all the time_.

She just didn't know why.

 

* * *

 

 

“I need some. . . advice.” Cassandra stood awkwardly in front of Leliana's desk in the rookery, twisting her fingers together anxiously.

Leliana slowly looked up from the parchment she was studying. “Tell me this is not about the Inquisitor.”

“I just need—”

“What is it you want? For me to kiss you so you can decide if you like it?”

“No!” A beat, then, “I mean, would that help—?”

“We have more important things to focus on than whether or not you enjoy the company of women. I am aware of what happened between you two, and it's very unfortunate, but right now it is _not important_.”

Face burning, Cassandra took a step backward in the direction of the stairs. “Of course, I apologize for wasting your time.”

 

* * *

 

 

Adaar hovered quietly over Varric's shoulder, reading what he was furiously writing. “More smut?” she asked, innocently.

Varric startled and dropped his pen, then turned around in his seat. He recovered quickly with a smug smile. “Just the next installment of _Swords and Shields_ for our dear Seeker.”

“Really,” said Adaar, taking a seat next to him. “I figured you'd wrapped that up with the last volume, how you hated it, and all.”

“Oh no,” said Varric. “This is leverage, I wouldn't give that up. Think of the _power_.”

Adaar looked at Varric's draft thoughtfully. “Maybe I ought to read this book.”

“Maybe you should,” replied Varric cryptically. Adaar looked at him sideways, but he gave nothing away. “You could ask Cassandra for her copy, or I'm sure there's one upstairs somewhere. Though I think The Iron Bull might have had it; if that's the case, you may be better off with Cassandra's.”

Adaar just squinted suspiciously at him as she stood. “I'll do that, then.”

 

 _Swords and Shields_ was indeed a whole lot of smut. Smut about _women_. This was what had Cassandra so engrossed?

Of course, the fact that Cassandra apparently liked ( _really_ liked) reading dirty fiction about two women didn't necessarily mean anything about her real life preferences, but.

But.

Perhaps Sera had been right about the whole repression thing. Either way, it still didn't matter—Cassandra had made herself clear, and Adaar wasn't going to press her about it.

 

* * *

 

 

Adaar was on her way to speak to Cullen when Cassandra all but jumped out of a hallway. “Inquisitor, a—a word?” She gestured a little wildly for Adaar to follow her, and Adaar couldn't help but think that this was exactly the same way Cassandra had pulled her aside to tell her that she could not return her feelings.

Her absolutely graceless way of moving was still endearing, however.

She wordlessly followed Cassandra back into the hallway and out on to one of the keep's balconies.

“Things have been. . . awkward,” Cassandra began. “And I know it's my fault—”

“It isn't your fault,” said Adaar. “I made you uncomfortable. And I—”

“Let me finish,” said Cassandra, a little harshly. Adaar nodded, shutting up. Cassandra continued, “I liked you flirting with me. No one really—I'm not—People don't usually. . . like me. It was nice. And I've never, with a woman, so I didn't know what to do!”

Cassandra continued in relative incoherence, which Adaar mostly tuned out to focus on her complete humiliation.

“I understand,” she finally interrupted. She wasn't sure what the point of this conversation was—she hadn't flirted at all with Cassandra since she asked her to stop. She'd had little to do with Cassandra at _all_.

“You do?” Cassandra asked.

“I make you uncomfortable, that much is clear,” said Adaar, looking anywhere but at Cassandra. “Apparently being your friend is still too much, so I'll stop.”

“No!” Cassandra spluttered. “That's not—Did you even listen to me?”

Adaar frowned. “You weren't making a lot of sense.”

Cassandra's face flushed. “What I was trying to say is, I do like you. I might even like to—to kiss you. But I don't want to hurt you more than I apparently already have, so. It is your choice. We can stay friends, or we can. . . try?”

Adaar searched Cassandra's face. Part of her felt like _fireworks_ , but part of her wanted to walk away. “I don't know,” she said at last.

Cassandra's shoulders slumped. “I expected as much,” she said resignedly, offering a small smile.

Adaar bit her lip. “No, wait,” she said, putting a hand on Cassandra's arm to stop her from leaving. “I just want to. . .” She leaned down, slowly, telegraphing her movements so Cassandra could pull away if she wanted.

Cassandra instead leaned up to meet Adaar's lips, closing her eyes and resting a hand on Adaar's shoulder for balance as she stood on her tip-toes.

Adaar meant to keep the kiss brief and chaste, but as she pulled away, Cassandra followed, opening her lips and deepening it. The small noise of surprise in Adaar's throat only seemed to spur Cassandra on, pressing her body closer in response.

They parted after a few moments, breathing quickly.

“I think I have been very wrong,” said Cassandra.

Adaar laughed breathlessly. “Have you?”

Cassandra only nodded as she pulled Adaar's head back down for another kiss.

 

* * *

 

 

Things went more-or-less back to normal after that. In public, they were once again amiable. They had agreed to keep their tentative relationship to themselves, at least for now. In private, Cassandra proved unexpectedly affectionate. They spent evenings looking over reports in Adaar's quarters, side-by-side under a blanket on her tiny couch. Every so often, Cassandra would lean over and kiss her shoulder, or make absent gestures with her fingers on Adaar's leg, or tiredly rest her face on her arm and sigh sweetly.

Adaar was afraid to give too much too quickly, fully aware that this could all end miserably. She initiated very little, and let Cassandra dictate the pace of things. She worried as much about moving too fast as she did about moving too slowly and boring Cassandra—whom she knew all too well was a secret romantic. What if she messed it all up?

 

Only a week later, Adaar left for the Western Approach with Blackwall, Dorian, and Varric to deal with reports of both Tevinter and Grey Warden activity in the desert. What was meant to be an exploratory mission to set up outposts and get the lay of the land quickly turned into a mess, and it was weeks before they could even begin the long trek home.

Cassandra was barreling down the steps of the keep when their party finally came through the main gate, the late afternoon sun behind them, but stopped abruptly a few yards away and watched as Adaar slid tiredly from her horse and met her concerned gaze with a slight smile.

“You idiots!” Cassandra exploded, finally coming forward and taking some of Adaar's weight on her shoulder. “No word for weeks, we had begun to fear you had all _died_!”

“Now, now, Seeker,” Varric said, exhaustion coloring his voice as he dismounted from his own horse, “have a little faith. We all made it back in one piece, didn't we?”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise and began moving back toward the keep, Adaar still on her shoulder.

“You missed me, then?” Adaar asked slyly.

“Don't be smart,” Cassandra said testily. “It is not becoming.” Adaar laughed.

They made it up to Adaar's quarters with relatively little grumbling on Cassandra's part.

She seemed to lose steam, however, once there. “I had a bath prepared for you, once you were spotted coming up the road,” she said, gesturing at the large tub in the middle of the room. She fidgeted a moment. “Are you hungry? Of course you must be, let me go find something for you to eat. You stay here and—and bathe.” Cassandra nodded once and left the room in a hurry.

Adaar slowly peeled off her armor and left it on the floor—she'd regret that decision later, but the bath was steaming and everything ached and she _really_ wanted to get in and never get out.

 

* * *

 

 

“I didn't know what you wanted, so I—” Cassandra cut herself off mid-sentence when she realized that Adaar had fallen asleep in the bath. It looked as though she'd made a half-hearted effort to scrub the dirt off, but had drifted off in the middle of it.

She put down the multiple plates of food she was carrying, and knelt on the floor behind Adaar. She gently kissed the top of her shoulder and the side of her neck. “Inquisitor,” she said softly.

Adaar blinked sleepily as she awoke before turning her head to meet Cassandra's lips. “I didn't mean to fall asleep,” she said.

“Let's get you cleaned up and then you can sleep,” Cassandra replied, straightening and reaching for the cloth hanging on the side of the tub. She dipped a few fingers in the water and found it still warm enough, so she lathered up the cloth and began scrubbing Adaar's exposed flesh in small, soothing circles.

“You don't have to bathe me, Cassandra,” Adaar said, sounding embarrassed.

“I know,” said Cassandra.

They were both silent as Cassandra scrubbed every bit of dirt and sand and dried sweat from Adaar's body, and as Cassandra pressed small kisses to the scars on Adaar's broad back when she was finished.

While Adaar dressed in loose sleep clothes, Cassandra dragged the tub out of the way and decided to deal with it later.

“You should eat something,” Cassandra said as Adaar crawled into bed.

“Later,” said Adaar, stretching and settling in. “Come here.”

Cassandra bit at her thumbnail before pulling off her boots and sliding in next to Adaar, who wrapped a muscular arm around her waist and pulled her in closer.

 

* * *

 

 

Cassandra woke early the next morning to lips on the back of her neck. She turned around in Adaar's loose grasp to kiss her sleepily. “I was afraid you'd died,” she whispered, cupping Adaar's cheek with her hand.

Adaar laughed self-deprecatingly. “You'd have to find someone else with a magic hand, then.”

Cassandra sat up abruptly. “Don't be stupid,” she said. “You know that isn't what I meant.”

“Do I?” asked Adaar tentatively.

“ _Yes_ ,” said Cassandra raggedly, before bring their mouths together in a rough kiss. Cassandra rucked Adaar's loose shirt up and straddled her hips. She skimmed her hands over Adaar's muscled abdomen, up to her small breasts, cupping them and running her thumbs over her nipples. Adaar wiggled her shirt off, and Cassandra took advantage of her newly-bared flesh to lean forward and kiss Adaar's neck as she continued to massage her breasts.

Adaar groaned and began tugging at Cassandra's shirt. “Off,” she muttered. Cassandra let her peel it over her head, and before she could return to her ministrations, Adaar wrapped her arms around her back and flipped them over.

Cassandra stifled a groan with her hand as Adaar sealed her lips over one of her nipples and just barely tugged with her teeth. While her mouth was occupied, she started fiddling with the fastenings on Cassandra's pants with one hand, eagerly trying to push them off.

Cassandra shoved her off. “Let me, it'll be faster,” she breathed. Adaar followed suit, and when she finished undressing before Cassandra, knelt on the bed for leverage and simply yanked Cassandra's pants off.

“There,” she said. “Done.”

Cassandra made a hungry noise and grabbed her by the horns to pull her down into a kiss. She tugged at Adaar's bottom lip with her teeth before soothing it with her tongue.

 

Adaar kissed every bit of Cassandra's skin she could reach—her collarbone, her breasts, her elbows, her hands, her belly, her thighs.

She ran her fingers through the damp black curls between Cassandra's legs and savored the shiver it caused. She delved a little deeper on the second pass, dipping her fingers into the wet heat and slowly rubbing at Cassandra's folds, making Cassandra cry out.

“Please,” Cassandra said, spreading her legs wider as Adaar fit herself between them. Adaar started with soft licks, up and around the one spot she knew Cassandra wanted her at. She dipped her tongue just inside of her, tasting Cassandra's arousal, before relenting and wrapping her lips around Cassandra's clit.

Cassandra shouted, slapping one hand over her mouth to smother it, and grabbing one of Adaar's horns with the other.

Adaar continued mouthing around Cassandra's clit, drawing patterns in her folds with her tongue, and every so often making sure to flick her tongue over that spot to make Cassandra whine.

She brought a hand up and effortlessly slid two fingers inside. She crooked them, stroking Cassandra's inner walls, feeling her tense up around her, and added a third.

Cassandra gasped and thrust her hips, the hand over her mouth moving to grasp the headboard, and Adaar sealed her lips around her clit again, sucking and licking as she continued to thrust her fingers in and out.

Adaar worked her free hand down between her own legs, already close to the edge, and moaned as her fingers slid easily through the slickness of her own arousal.

Cassandra came suddenly and with a soft whine. Her thighs flexed around Adaar's head as Adaar worked her gently through her orgasm. She pulled her fingers free and rested her cheek on Cassandra's thigh as she furiously brought herself off with a choked-off moan.

After, she sat up, wiping her face, and admired the sight of Cassandra—flushed all over and chest heaving, her arms splayed out.

“Come here,” Cassandra said breathlessly, limply waving an arm at her. Adaar crawled back up the bed and wrapped herself around Cassandra, her nose in the damp hair at Cassandra's temple.

“Next time,” said Cassandra, once she'd caught her breath, “you will find a way to send a message if you are delayed.”

“Why, when this is the reception I get on return?”

“This was a one-time deal. Do that again, and I will not speak to you for a month.”

Adaar laughed. “You say that now.”

“Shut up. If you stop trying to annoy me, we can have another go before we have to get up.”

“Yes, Lady Seeker.”


End file.
